


Don't Drink With The Devil

by Stranded_In_The_Cosmos



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Dramatic Holy Water Damage, He's okay just almost dies, Holy Water (Good Omens), Holy Water Spiked Alcohol, Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Lots of it, M/M, No beta we fall like Crowley, Thank somebody warlock is at pepper's while this happens, Unreasonable Amounts Of Descriptions Of Lucifer's Teeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 22:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29375013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stranded_In_The_Cosmos/pseuds/Stranded_In_The_Cosmos
Summary: Crowley agrees to just a single drink with Lucifer, but doesn't realize how bad this is going to turn out. Thank somebody for Aziraphale.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Don't Drink With The Devil

**Author's Note:**

> GUESS WHO HAS ABSOLUTELY ZERO SELF CONTROL. I lasted exactly three days that felt like much much longer before cracking a little and writing a thing in the DMs, then at almost one am with a sickly feeling in in stomach and a fog in my brain from tiredness I wrote this. The break was good for me though, as much as the writing demon despised it. The lesson to be learnt is, don’t trust my ass with pretty much anything that requires self-control for more than a few days.

Crowley stepped around his plant room, which had actually become most of his flat since he had begun to hang around, and sleep over at Aziraphale’s shop more often. Soon enough he’d been moving these plants closer to their place, (God his heart skipped every time he thought of it.  _ Their  _ place,  _ their  _ house), but for now he was simply checking in on them. 

The air shifted all the sudden, and there was a strange feeling building in Crowley’s stomach very quickly. That he wasn’t alone. 

He turned and the feeling was confirmed when he saw Lucifer, good old six-six-sixer himself, lounging in a leather chair. He was in a far more human form, a conventionally attractive face and a lean figure, even the horns were toned down to just two at the peaks of his hairline. 

“Evening Crowley,” Lucifer greeted with a smile, and Crowley briefly thought about how many teeth he had. Must’ve forgotten how many humans were supposed to have, rotting in Hell like he has for such long periods. Or perhaps he didn’t care.

Crowley hissed. “Have I not made it clear for you and the lot to stay the fuck away from me, my family, and my place of residence?” 

“Come now darling,” Lucifer pouted, and a disgusted shiver down Crowley’s back. “You can hardly say you reside here, not when you’re sleeping at the angel’s place every night, and I mean no harm anyway,” 

“Good to know you’re still spying on me,” Crowley hissed, torn between backing up and snapping Lucifer’s neck right then and there. He decided to lean back in the end, a sort of compromise. “And why should I trust that?” 

“Oh  _ no  _ darling,” Lucifer said. “We’re not  _ spying _ , just a demon here and there seeing you pass by and whatnot. What reason would I have to hurt you anyway, you’re immune to holy water, aren’t you? And honestly it isn’t worth the time,” He stood and trasped over to Crowley. He backed up promptly, before realizing that the wall was much closer than it had seemed and now he was trapped between Satan and a hard place. “You’re much more fun alive anyway,”

Crowley couldn’t tell if any of it was a lie, his skin was crawling and he was resisting the urge to kill him or fall to the floor and die himself. 

“What do you want?” Crowley asked. 

“Just a little drink darling, you and me back at my place, catching up, just some personal time together,” 

That wasn’t going to happen, there was no way in Heaven, Hell, or any blessed place in a room alone with Lucifer. But he also didn’t seem to have a choice not to go. 

“Why don’t I bring my angel around, let you two get acquainted and chat?” Crowley didn’t like dragging Aziraphale into this, but it was his only option. 

Lucifer’s eyes darkened with happiness. “Well well, wouldn’t that be a treat, do bring him with. I’ll see you at eight tonight, arlight love?” He didn’t wait for an answer before disappearing in a puff of black smoke. 

Crowley relaxed a little, feeling better now that he was gone, but still full of anxiety. 

How was he going to explain this to Aziraphale?

-

  
Apparently quite easily, the angel took no offense to being called upon for an out, or being invited to a drink with the devil. 

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” He asked over and over. To which the angel always responded the same, ‘Of course not’. 

Crowley felt safer knowing he’d be walking into Lucifer’s den with Aziraphale at his side. 

-

Aziraphale watched Crowley take the glass from Lucifer, who settled back into his seat languidly.

Crowley smelled it, making sure nothing was wrong with it. He didn't trust his former boss not to spike it with something unpleasant, or worse. His serpentine tongue even made an appearance, insurance.

Aziraphale was doing a check of his own, and there was nothing he could sense either. A perfectly normal well aged whisky.

It was fine.

Crowley knocked it back quickly, the entire thing, wanting to get this visit over with very soon. It stung going down, but no more than normal.

"You know Crowley, I had that drink specially brewed for you," Lucifer grinned devilishly, it unsettled Aziraphale, too many teeth in that mouth, or it felt like it, Aziraphale wasn’t sure. 

Crowley raised an eyebrow, and stood. "Well, thanks mate, lovely drink, but I think we should get going, don't you Aziraphale? Hellspawn to check in on, plants to tend, all the things. Only agreed to one drink anyway-" He stopped, and started hacking wetly. 

"Dear?" Aziraphale asked, deeply concerned.

Crowley leant against the table for support, still wetly coughing, a spray of black blood fell from Crowley and dotted the perfect red and gold tablecloth. 

Lucifer grinned even more if such a thing was possible, and Aziraphale was sure now, too many teeth, all too perfect. 

"Darling? Crowley?" Aziraphale stood and tried to figure out what was going on. 

"Oh, I wouldn't make him speak, I don't think he can at this point, already eaten at your throat darling, hasn’t it?” 

Crowley looked up, eyes swallowed in gold and pupils thin and sharp, as they were in Eden. "You..." He managed to get out in a raspy voice.

"Ah, finally figured it out, have you darling?" Lucifer finished his own drink and stood, clasping his hands together as though he were about to announce the end of a formal business arrangement. "To fill you in Azira my love, Crowley has  _ just  _ downed a glass full of  _ holy water liquor _ , one of Hell's  _ finest  _ ideas yet. It's eating him inside out, and I'm sure he hasn't long left, so I'll leave you two to have your dramatic ‘lovers being forcefully pulled apart by death scene’, 'kay? See ya!" Lucifer disappeared in a puff of black smoke, and Crowley dropped to the floor with a thud. 

“Crowley!” Aziraphale shouted, dropping to the floor beside Crowley. 

Crowley turned himself onto his back, wincing. “Ow…” 

“Oh-oh lord Crowley, what do I do?” Aziraphale thought, trying to find what he could possibly do about this. Crowley weakly set his hand on his, Aziraphale took it gently, smiling to try and bring some comfort to his demon. 

An idea came to mind. It wasn’t going to be pretty though. 

“Crowley, we need to get rid of whatever the holy water has infected before it gets the rest of you,” Crowley nodded. “It, isn’t going to be pleasant, you’ll have to-er-throw up as it were, all of your internal organs,” 

Crowley groaned, but nodded, knowing it was their only chance. 

Aziraphale helped him into a comfortable position, and the next half an hour was consumed by violent hacking and a black-ish red-ish mess of steaming and melting gore being piled onto the expensive carpeting, which softened the blow for Crowley a little. 

When it was over, Crowley didn’t do much more than give Aziraphale a thumbs up and then pass out. Aziraphale didn’t blame him, of course. He gently picked the demon up and teleported them home. 

-

Crowley woke up in the late afternoon, his body ached with the strain of the activities of last night. At least it was better than dead. 

“Good morning love,” Aziraphale greeted, running his fingers through Crowley’s hair. “How are you doing?” 

“Alright,” Crowley said with a raspy voice. “I’ve been in worse pain, I mean,” 

“Well, still, that must’ve been an awful experience,” 

“Don’t actually remember much of the pain to be honest,” Crowley shrugged. “M’just glad Warlock didn’t have to see any of that, though I’m not sure how bad I looked,” 

“You’ve looked worse,” Aziraphale jested. 

“I take offense,” Crowley huffed. 

“Get some rest love, I’ll take care of you,” 

“Fine, alright,” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, please leave a comment and a kudos! Thanks! Have a lovely day darlings!


End file.
